DAI: Short - Scarf
by N7PhoenixFox
Summary: Friendship fluff! Lavellan can't help but think Solas is freezing as they ascend the Mountain above Haven, travelling to the breach. Luckily, she has a scarf.


**(Edited)**

 **Also posted on Ao3: Arterius_Rising**

 **Who else looks at Solas' feet and wonders how they aren't burning when he walks on pure snow?**

 **Kept the name as Lavellan, to help those who like to imagine their own**.

Work Text:

On the mountain side, high above Haven, four unlikely companions headed towards the ruin of the Temple of Ashes.

Lavellan hadn't known the unusual elvhen mage very long. All but an hour, if she had but to guess. That didn't leave much time to actually get to know a person. But she didn't need to know him personally, to understand that the snow was blistering.

He wore no shoes, and only wore a jumper and overcoat. Solas, his name was. _Pride._ Lavellan would have snorted, thinking it fitting that his pride would give him hyperthermia, though she wasn't in much of a position to laugh. He must have been freezing. That fact played on her mind as they traveled up the mountainside, aiming for the mountain pass.

Even she had known to wear clothes suited to a harsher terrain. The scarf and boots, and the armour over her thick, padded jacket. Her Keeper had always said she had a warm heart, despite its hard casing, that might have been why it clamoured inside her to help him. Lest he freeze to death on the mountain side.

With a heavy sigh, she paused in her climb. Cassandra, the Seeker, eyed her but Lavellan chose to stay ignorant and pretend nothing was amiss. Varric passed her, the cheerful dwarf who she liked already, his brow raised.

Solas glanced up at her, cornflower blue eyes stark against his pale face. He used his staff as a sort of walking stick, pulling himself through the snow drift. Lavellan picked up her walk beside him, and she could tell he was curious as to why she'd held back.

He didn't trust the Dalish, he'd said in not so many words. He was wary of her, because of how her kin had treated him. She was also unsure of him, a barefaced mage who hadn't dwelled in the city and yet was an experienced magic user. Didn't mean she'd let his stubbornness freeze him to death, however.

"You look cold," she said, in all seriousness, having to shout partly so her words weren't carried away on the winds. Lavellan watched him for a reaction from the corner of her eyes, snowflakes collected on her lashes. He seemed content enough, but she couldn't help but think he must feel something. Surely his feet were burning where they touched the pure snow. Even the most hardened Dalish feet, from travelling with no shoes on, would have felt something.

The Mage shot her a look, one that she could have taken to be patronising, if she were pushing it.

"Do not concern yourself with my wellbeing. I am fine," he returned, in that controlled voice. "You should be more worried for your own situation."

"Hm," she rebuffed. Not believing a word he said. He hadn't answered her question, using tactics to turn the conversation around on her.

"You know an awful lot about the breach," Lavellan brokered the question, not giving in.

"I know as much as my studies have allowed, yes," he looked to her, as if he were trying to gauge where she was coming from. He was guarded, even more so than her, which was a surprise. He hid behind a mask of politeness, while his keen eyes studied.

"You know more than most, which means you are important," Lavellan pointed out. It might be truth, it might not. They could all perish in their foolish attempt to reach the breach. He might not even be able to help, and the pulsing power in her palm would eat her alive before the world crumbled. If anything, focussing herself on his wellbeing was a welcome distraction from any other thought. The frantic attempt of her mind to recall the memories, and time which she had lost.

"Perhaps," he was cautious of her, but there was a small smile in his voice. She amused him, and probably not for the right reasons. Lavellan had known hunters like him, who thought they were above others because of their skill. She had learnt to deal with them early on, and would use the same methods on him.

She nodded, her features also masked with an expression of respect, as she unwrapped the scarf from her neck. Lavellan handed it out to him as they climbed. "Then take this. You say you don't feel it, but you'll be warmer with it on. I'd give you my boots to share, but I don't think we're the same size." He deflected with humour, and she could do the same. She amused him, but she was not dimwitted.

"No, thank you," he offered a polite smile, shutting down the conversation.

Lavellan was stubborn, when she wanted to be. The scarf hung between them, as she refused to lower it. "Take it, Solas. It's only a scarf."

His lips thinned, but he eventually let out a sigh. "If I must. After all, we can not have you concerned over me while you close rifts. The breach will take all your strength." Lavellan didn't answer. Instead she watched as he attempted to put it round his shoulders while holding his staff. He didn't do a very good job of it. Most of his neck still showed. The winds would just rush right in, chilling him more.

She shook her head, and stepped in front of him. "Let me," Lavellan didn't wait for a reply. She rearranged the material more securely against his neck and shoulders. It wouldn't heat his feet, but at least it was some protection. She doubted he'd agree to her wrapping it around his toes. "That's better," she offered a small smile, before turning to trudge up towards the front of the line once more. Where the Seeker glared from Solas, to her.

All the while, Lavellan did not noticed the intent gaze of the hermit who brought a hand up to the material, still slightly warm from her body heat and the mage fire she battled with. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for his wellbeing, no matter what her intentions or reasonings had been.

He saw the stiff lines of her shoulders, the tense pull at her eyes in fear, and agonised over whether she could do what they all expected her to do and close the breach in the sky. Yet still, even in her own discomfort, she she had noticed him.

What an oddity.


End file.
